


Know what you're falling for

by banshee_in_the_dark



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, First Contact, Romance, grounder!bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 21:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1832335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banshee_in_the_dark/pseuds/banshee_in_the_dark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One-shot AU: grounder!Bellamy is not too pleased to find a space ship landed on his territory. That is, until a certain blonde is standing before him</p>
            </blockquote>





	Know what you're falling for

They land practically on top of him.

Well, ‘land’ is a generous term. More like they soared through the sky in a fiery blaze and plummeted to the ground twenty feet away from the hidden entrance of his bunker. The force of the impact was enough to send him flying back and knocking the wind from his lungs and if it wasn’t for the parachutes flailing above the ship and slowly settling around it, he would be looking at a pile of steaming scrap metal instead of a somewhat battered but apparently functional spaceship.

If Bellamy Blake was the cowardly type, he’d be making a hasty retreat and finding cover in the trees right about now.

Instead, he drops the three dead rabbits strung together slung across his shoulder on the ground, slips an arrow from the quiver strapped to his back and carefully takes aim with his bow, cursing himself for leaving his precious firearm back in the bunker, and adopts a defensive stance right across what he assumes is the ship’s door.

And waits.

Not before long, the grinding of metal against metal signals the opening of the gate and Bellamy schools his features as he watches it lower to the ground in a cloud of steam.

They don’t see him at first. He doesn’t wear the strappings of the Forest Clan anymore, but his own clothes are still pretty good at concealing him in the scenery. He counts two dozens of people not a day older of twenty exiting the ship in a whirlwind of excited screams before they start to notice him stoically standing his ground and collectively stepping back, something akin to horror and surprise painted on their features. He can tell there’s more inside the ship from the rising murmur coming from them wondering what’s the holdup.

A girl pushes through the crowd and Bellamy pulls the bow string tauter aiming directly at her. She doesn’t seem fazed at all.

“Oh my God,” she mutters, taking a few steps in his direction. She’s probably the loveliest girl he’s ever seen, he admits grudgingly. Locks of golden hair escaped her messy braid and frame her face, dancing in the slight breeze and teasing her fair skin. Her blue eyes bore into his, amazed by his sight and searching for answers. “Hello,” she says warily, her voice steady and calm. “We didn’t know there were any survivors.”

Bellamy doesn’t speak a word, taking a cursory glance over her body and the other around them to make sure none of them are armed.

“My name is Clarke,” she enunciates clearly placing a small hand, one that doesn’t look like it’s ever done any kind of manual labor, on her chest, apparently under the impression that he doesn’t understand her. “We come from space.”

She makes a circular motion with her hand to somewhat signify the whole group and then awkwardly points to the sky. Bellamy rolls his eyes, relaxing his stance and pointing his bow down.

“Good for you,” he fixes her with a level stare, inwardly pleased when he sees her blush realizing she just made a fool of herself. “You’re on my territory.”

“We thought no one had survived the cataclysm,” she explains, smiling wryly. “How many survivors are there?”

“Enough. And they’re not going to be as warm and welcoming as me when they find you,” he deadpans.

She arches her eyebrow and pointedly looks at the bow still in his hands ready to shoot. Apparently her definition of warm and welcoming is different than his. Go figure.

“Well, we thank you for the warning,” Clarke concedes. “Uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“I didn’t give it.”

She blinks, looking more and more irritated by the second.

“Bellamy,” he says finally, relaxing his hold on the bowstring and slipping the arrow back in the quiver as a show of good faith.

“Nice to meet you, Bellamy,” she nods, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “We’ll be out of your hair in a moment. We need to get to Mount Weather.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“There’s a facility there – ”

“Are the Mountain Men expecting you?” he cuts in impatiently.

A mask of dread falls over her face and she crosses the clearing. He meets her half way as the rest of her people exit the ship far more orderly than they had before.

“What Mountain Men?” she asks in a hushed whisper, raising her eyes to his.

“They live in that facility you’re headed for. They’re not friendly,” he warns her, watching a myriad of emotions ranging from anger to desolation playing in her features until she stubbornly sets her jaw. He smiles at the sight of her fuming before he catches himself. It’s a good look on her.

“I can’t believe this. They dropped us on the wrong mountain and it turns out our safe heaven is already taken,” Clarke balls her fists, her gaze perusing the hundred or so teens milling around them and excitedly exploring their surroundings. “How are we gonna survive now?” she says under her breath, more to herself than him.

Bellamy shrugs, lips curling downward. “There’s water and game. Your ship can provide temporary shelter.”

“We didn’t exactly practice our hunting skills back in space. You said this was your territory? We didn’t land over your house did we?” she asks worriedly, her brow knit in delicate lines as she looks up at him.

“Almost,” he cocks his head to the side and walks a few feet off to the side right over the tree line, with Clarke trailing behind him. Bellamy crouches down and removes the knit blanket of leaves that camouflage the hatch of his underground bunker. “My family’s kept this location a secret for three generations,” he tells her wryly, pulling on the handle and revealing steps covered in darkness. “My mother didn’t even tell my father when she married him and went to live with his people.”

“Do you live alone?” her voice teases the back of her neck sending an unexpectedly pleasant shiver down his spine. He turns his head back finding her leaning over his shoulder and looking down the passageway that leads to his home.

Her face is a lot closer than he anticipated, enough for the delicious scent of her to fill his nostrils. Bellamy licks his lips, just a breath away from her cheek. “I left the tribe,” his voice comes out as a low rasp, startling her. Their noses almost bump together as she turns to look at him with wide, captivating eyes, and the breath she exhales when she parts her lips in a silent oh fans across his face. “When they killed my parents, I left.”

Her tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip as her gaze drops to his lips, before a distant burst of laughter from the other kids snaps her out of the trance and she pulls back, clearing her throat and averting her eyes.

“Sorry to hear that,” Clarke says, her breath slightly hitched.

Bellamy smirks. He hasn’t had contact with anyone who didn’t want to kill him in years, being around a beautiful girl who’s obviously as attracted to him as he is to her is certainly a nice change of pace.

“It’s okay. Unfortunately, your ship dropping from the sky has all but put a bulls eye on my location,” he stands up to his full height, stirring under her appreciative glance. “Everybody on a hundred mile ratio saw you. The Forest Clan, Mountain Men, hell, even Reapers could be marching on us.”

“We should build a wall,” Clarke says, thinking about the things they can use from the drop ship they can use to protect themselves. “That is…” she worries her lip, staring at him inquisitively. “If you don’t mind us staying here? We could really use your help, you obviously know all about surviving in this place and we kind of can’t move our ship.”

“The bunker’s not big enough for the lot of you,” he replies, trailing his heated eyes through the length of her, smiling internally as she blushes and squirms under his gaze. “And winter is going to suck.” Finally his eyes meet hers and he can practically feel the electricity between them. “But I don’t mind the company.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this came from. Thoughts?


End file.
